


Vienna

by paquerettepunk



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety Attacks, Frenchie and MM are the real heroes, Gen, Hughie really goes through it, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kid Hughie, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rated M for gore and Butcher’s mouth, Sort Of, This kid is getting adopted by the most dysfunctional family, it takes Butcher a while to realize he’s a dad now, slow burn found family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paquerettepunk/pseuds/paquerettepunk
Summary: Hughie Campbell is ten years old when his dad is killed.Soon he finds himself thrust in with the likes of Billy Butcher and his motley band of misfits. Trying to take down the mega corporation Vought and all supes seems like an an impossible job. Unfortunately for Hughie, it seems like his life just went from bad, to worse.
Relationships: Billy Butcher & Hughie Campbell
Comments: 35
Kudos: 110





	1. Surprise, Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! This is my first time writing fanfiction, but The Boys is so good I couldn’t stop myself. I really wanted to see these characters interacting with a kid, and since Hughie is my favorite boy, this AU happened.

Hughie Campbell had been having a pretty good day. Since it was still another month before he went back to school he spent that morning with his dad at work. Hugh Campbell Sr. worked at a little tech shop off 4th St., and being good friends with the owner meant his son Hughie could hang around the shop with his old man. Little Hughie shadowed his dad as he helped customers find computer setups, entertainment systems, and whatever else they’d need to get by in the age of technology. Hughie usually loved to listen to his dad rattle off which set ups had the best audio quality or what cables provided higher network speeds, and helping around the store made Hughie feel rather important--how many other kids could say they had a job? Even despite the fact he was only there because his dad couldn’t afford a babysitter all summer. However, today was different; it was special.

Today Hughie turned ten years old.

The boy was practically vibrating in his Chuck Taylors, fingers idly tugging the hem of his A-Train t-shirt as he waited for the clock on the counter to hit 12:00. Hugh glanced over at his son as he finished ringing up the most recent customer, chuckling lightly at the frankly desperate look on the boy’s face. He had promised the boy he’d take off work early for a special birthday lunch. Hugh didn’t make a lot of money in his line of work, but by god he was going all out today. After all, a kid only turned 10 once. He was going to take Hugie to eat at Planet Vought, spend the whole day playing games and eating overpriced junk. Hugh had even invited Hughie’s friend, Robin, to meet them there with her parents. His son didn’t make friends easily; he was a shy, skittish boy, but Robin and him seemed to hit it off. Hugh was glad, every kid deserves friends, especially one as sweet as Hughie.

“Dad, it’s 12:01.” Hugh looked over to where Hugie was standing, the boy tipped his head down sheepishly at the glance, not wanting to seem impatient. 

“Alright, alright, I’m packing up.” Hugh turned to yell towards the back room, “Gary, I’m headed out for the day--watch the front!” 

They heard a soft thud come from the back room as an aging man poked his head out. “Happy birthday, Hughie, give your old man a hard time for me today, ok? Since I won’t be there to boss him around,” he said with a huffed laugh, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

“Oh come off it, Gary, my boy's gonna be too busy with his special surprise.” Hugh said while ruffling Hughie's hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Bye Mr. Tullius!” Hughie quickly chirped as they stepped out of the store. The boy couldn’t help skipping a little as he and his dad made their way down the sidewalk. He was so excited for whatever his dad had planned; he had been trying to figure out the surprise since that morning, but Hugh Sr. had been tight lipped about it. “Dad, now that we’re on our way, can you please tell me where we’re going?” 

“Eager beaver, aren’t ya?” Hugh teased. “Well, I suppose it’s only fair to tell you. We’re headed to McStaggers pub.” Hughie halted in his footsteps staring at his dad’s back in confusion. Hugh turned to face his son as he veered toward the edge of the sidewalk. His lips upticked in a knowing little smile, “After all, you're ten years old, practically a man now. It’s only fair you have your first beer with your dad!” Hughie could recognize the sarcastic edge in his dad's voice. 

“Dad, I know you're messing with me,” Hughie quickly stepped toward the edge of the curb. “what’s the surprise, really?”

“I told you we’re gonna have a grand old time at the bar,” his dad stepped down onto the street still looking at Hughie, “have a drink and listen to some Billy Joel on the juke.” 

Hughie scrunched his nose slightly in mock disgust, “Ew! Billy Joel, I’m not that old yet.” He knew that would get his dad riled up-- served him right for being so evasive.

Hugh placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, speaking in the way that all lecturing fathers do. “Hey, now don’t you ever besmirch Billy Jo-” 

Hughie doesn’t quite catch the tail end of that statement with the blast of wind that flies by, must have been strong because he can’t see his dad anymore either. Hughie feels a liquid running down the right side of his cheek but that can’t be right, the sky’s too clear for rain, and rain isn’t supposed to be red.

“I- I can’t stop.” Hughie turned to look at A-Train, the speedster covered in blood and viscera, as he ran forward and out of sight. 

“D-dad…?” Hughie noticed the chunks of flesh littering the street, the blood splattered in his hair and collecting in viscous puddles on the ground, but still couldn’t quite put two and two together. He still felt the hand on his shoulder and seeing the severed appendage brought reality crashing down. “DAD!” Hughie heard a scream and realized it was coming from him. Soon people in the street were approaching, one woman began wiping the blood off his cheek while another man called the police.

Hughie couldn’t hear much of anything over the ragged breaths wheezing in and out of his chest. At some point he was huddled onto an ambulance and had a paramedic wrapping a shock blanket delicately around his narrow shoulders.

“Are you alright, kid? I need you to breathe with me, in and out--that’s right.” A woman in her mid twenties rubbed her hand in slow circles on Hughie’s back, brows pinched in concern as she called out, “He’s in shock but otherwise unharmed, once we’ve gotten him to calm down you can take him in for a statement.” It was then that Hughie saw the police car flashing over the woman’s shoulder, cops were on the scene taping off the area from onlookers. He tucked his head down, police only came when something bad happened and Hughie really didn’t want to think about just how bad all of this was. “It’s okay, they just want to hear what happened, and they’ll get you set up with child services to find a relative who can take you in for now. Everything is going to be okay.” She flashed a smile that didn’t quite hide the sad look in her eyes. 

Hughie wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what transpired the rest of the day, he went to the station and spoke to the police on auto pilot. Gary offered to take him in until they were able to contact any relatives, but Hughie knew there was no one else. It was just him and his dad, always had been since he was five. All he could see was A-Train, coated with his dad’s blood, just running away. Heroes didn’t hurt people, right? Not innocents, only criminals, and even then they usually brought them in alive. This was all wrong and he wanted so badly for it to make sense. Hughie curled into a tight ball on the twin bed Gary had set up for him that night, and cried for the first time all day in choked sobs. He was ten, he shouldn’t be crying like a little kid. Like a little kid who had just lost his dad, who just realized that he was an orphan now. A little kid who was alone in a world where supes apparently didn’t save people. Eventually Hughie drifted off to sleep, in a strange apartment on a strange bed, and his last thought was that-

that he never did find out what the surprise was.

* * *

  
After the funeral, Hughie was back on Gary’s old couch. Robin and her family were there, she told him about the day his dad had planned, how they were waiting for his dad and him when they got the phone call. He hadn’t cried at the services, or at all since that first night which had surprised everyone who knew him. Hughie had always been a crier; he had cried when Bambi’s mom died, or when a boy at school showed him a dead lizard. His dad had always said he was a sensitive boy, and that that was a good thing. But as Hughie stared at the T.V. screen, watching A-Train and various Vaught executives give their “deepest condolences”, he couldn’t stop an ugly feeling from bubbling in his chest. The kind of hot anger that burns you from the inside out, and when A-Train stated that his dad had been in the middle of the street, it crawled it’s way into his throat.

“He’s lying! He was a half step off the curb!” The outburst startled Gary who had been sitting next to Hughie in silence. 

“Hey it’s ok, I’m sure he knows.” Gary said in a placating way, “I can switch the channel if you want?” 

“No. Keep it.” Hughie sat back down. They stayed that way on the couch in a tense silence when the doorbell rang. 

* * *

Hughie spent the next couple days with Gary at the store, he had a lot to think about. They wanted him to sign some kind of contract, promising not to talk about what happened. Well, technically Hughie was too young to sign anything legally binding, but Gary--who had temporary custody--could. Hughie had refused but Gary had been asking him to reconsider, after all, apparently the money was good and a trust could get set up in Hughie’s name. His dad didn’t have much to leave to him, so this was his best bet. But the thought of taking money for his dad’s murder left Hughie feeling sick.

As a kid you already didn’t have a lot of agency, but Hughie had never felt so powerless before. What could he do? He couldn’t fight Vought, he couldn’t even try to set the record straight. Who would believe one traumatized kid over a respected hero? Just seeing A-Train’s face at the store left Hughie panicking so badly Gary had to carry him out. Afterward, Gary suggested he see some therapist who works with children, to help him “move on”; but the thing is, Hughie didn’t want to just move on, he wanted justice, whatever that meant now. Hughie stewed in his thoughts, half paying attention to the TV, as a bell jingled over the doorway signaling a customer. The man who entered was certainly intimidating, a harsh face with dark hair and a trench coat, as he sauntered over to the nanny cams, quietly inspecting a teddy bear in his hands. Gary had been in the back doing inventory and told Hughie to yell if anyone came in. The boy was about to when the man spoke.

“Tell me, how many nannies do you think shake their babies?” Hughie shook his head a little in confusion.

“Um...W-what?”

“You know, a good, hard shake… like trying to get ketchup out of a bottle. How many? One percent? Less?”

“I - I don’t really know, sir,” Hughie stammered out.

“Funny that. They sell a million dollars of that shit worldwide, goes to show you doesn’t it? The bollocks people will believe, if you get them scared enough,” the man said as he circled around Hughie.

“Uh-h cool, cool. Um, would you like me to get the guy who works here?” The boy was wary now, this guy was weird. He stared directly at Hughie when he spoke again.

“I’m not gonna piss you about, Hughie, I heard about what happened to your dad.” That got a reaction.

“Who-who are you?” Hughie was really nervous now. How did he know who he was?

“He wasn’t in the street, he was one step of the fucking curb. And you, kid, didn’t take the payoff.” The man sounded rather smug there, like the cat that got the canary.

“H-how do you know that? I should call Gary.” Hughie backed off a little but the man stepped forward, reaching into his coat.

“No need for that son. The name’s Butcher, Billy Butcher.” The man, Butcher, flipped open a black wallet, revealing his FBI badge. “And I was thinkin’ that you and me, should have a bit of a chat.” 

Hughie was certainly surprised, this guy did not look like a fed. At least not like any fed he had ever seen on TV, didn’t sound like one either with that thick Cockney accent. He had quickly told Gary the Robin’s dad had invited him over for dinner, her apartment was only a block down so he said he’d walk. The boy grabbed his cellphone and headed out with the strange man. His dad would have killed him if he’d caught Hughie leaving with some stranger, even if he was FBI, but he was dead now. What did Hughie have to lose?

“So, um, you don’t really look like an FBI agent, or talk like one.” Hughie felt the need to break the tense silence that had fallen over the two as they walked down the busy street. 

“What? A man can’t immigrate? Cause there’s a giant green slapper with her ass in the harbor that says differently .” Butcher had been observing the kid as they walked, he was a nervous little tyke, Butcher could tell that much from the way the kid spoke and avoided eye contact like it’s the fucking plague. Good. Made his job easier.

“So, uh, what do you need me for... Hughie quickly tacked on a “Sir?” He wasn’t about to get on a federal officer's bad side. Best to be polite.

“You got it all wrong, kid, this is about what I can do for you. And come off it with the sir shit, makes me feel old.” Hughie sheepishly looked at his shoes. “You see son, you're not alone, what happened to your dad is a lot more common than you think, supes lose hundreds of people a year to collateral damage.”

“No, that, that can’t be right, heroes save people. Wouldn’t it be on the news if that many people were dying?” The boy couldn’t quite wrap his head around what the man was saying. This was common? A statistic, even? It made his stomach drop, like missing the last step on a staircase. Butcher continued on about cover ups and corporate influence, not to mention the public’s reliance on the hero persona. Hughie felt a dizzying type of disillusionment in that moment. _“Is this what growing up is?”_ He thought. The boy almost wished he had stayed nine years old forever. Scratch that, he really wished he could have stayed nine forever. 

“Anyway, that’s where I come in, to spank the bastards when they get outta line.” Butcher finished with a flourish. 

“H-how do you spank a supe, and where are we going?” Butcher grinned then, looking rather feral in Hughie’s opinion. 

“You’ll love it.” 

Hughie got the distinct feeling that he definitely would not.

* * *

In school, they always said to never leave with a stranger, and if you do, to never get taken to a secondary location. Hughie was beginning to think they might have been onto something as he leaned against a wall in some alley outside a seedy looking night club. But Butcher had told him to wait outside as he “took care of business”. Kids were not allowed in the club, but he’d said he’d be out quickly. Hughie realized that he must have looked quite out of place, a scrawny kid fidgeting in an alleyway in the shadiest part of town. 

_“Oh god I should’ve remembered my street smarts,”_ Hughie thought anxiously.

After about 20 minutes, Butcher appeared through the side door. He sauntered over to where Hughie had been standing awkwardly. 

“I’ve got something you gotta see.” Butcher pulled out a cellphone with a video on screen. A-Train’s face clearly distinguishable next to another supe.

“A-Train?! A-Train’s here ?!” Hughie felt that fear creep in, his throat constricted painfully. 

“He was, this was taken yesterday.” Hughie let out a breath at that point, he wasn’t here, everything was fine.

As the video played, Butcher saw in real time a familiar anger possess the lad as he watched A-Train talk about Hugh Campbell Sr., or as the supe so eloquently stated “that asshole I ran through”. The kid shifted from quaking with fear to shaking with rage and Butcher smiled a little. The kid was cute when he didn’t look like he was about to piss himself at any given moment. Fear could only take him so far, but righteous rage? That’s what Butcher needed. That he could use.

Hughie wanted to scream. If hero’s acted like that, spoke about victims like that, then everything really was a lie. A messed up lie that got packaged and shipped to the masses. Hughie looked up at Butcher as he explained the club’s purpose and its specific clientele. The boy took a deep breath before he spoke next.

“What do you need me to do?”

Butcher grinned, this kid could definitely be useful.

* * *

Hughie would like to think that he hadn’t been alive long enough to do something terrible, something that the universe would see fit to punish him for; but as the boy sat on a bench in Central Park weakly clutching his lunch, he wondered if he was on the receiving end of some kind of cosmic justice. Gary was under the impression Hughie was spending time with Robin, but really he just needed some space to process what was about to happen. Butcher wanted Hughie to _infiltrate Vought. By himself._ Well, technically Gary would be there to sign the papers on his behalf, but Hughie had to be there as well to receive A-Train’s in-person apology. Plus, Gary wasn’t in on the fact that Hughie would be planting a bug inside Vought headquarters, home of The Seven.

Who in their right mind would ever ask Hughie to do anything? He wasn’t James Bond, he couldn’t smoothly lie his way through security into a heavily guarded building. He was Hughie Campbell, a kid who couldn’t even order his own food without stuttering. Hughie was going to screw this up, and knowing what he knows now about supes, probably end up dead in the process. And yet, he had made a commitment to a federal officer. He _was_ going to do this, because for the first time since his dad had died, Hughie wasn’t powerless. He had a chance to actually help bring his father’s killer to justice, actually be useful for a change. As long as he didn’t mess it up, that is. 

He was so screwed.

Hughie, distracted by his current spiral, almost didn’t notice the woman sitting next to him. She finished what sounded like a difficult phone call, and immediately put her head down, sniffling audibly. She looked sad, like someone who had just lost everything. Hughie could rather relate to that, and he couldn’t just look away when someone else was hurting. 

“Hey, uh, are you ok?” 

Annie January had not been having a good week. It was, in fact, probably the worst week of her life. She looked over at the young boy sitting next to her, his blue eyes wide with concern, and thought about how she must look, crying on a park bench. Weak and pathetic. So much so that even a kid felt the need to ask what was wrong. After a moment of silence he stammered out an apology. 

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to bother you.” The boy looked down at his sneakers, his feet, unable to reach the ground, swung idly back and forth. 

“No, no, it’s okay, sweetie, I’m fine. I’m just… having a bad day.” 

Hughie turned his gaze out to the park, “Yeah, me too.” He cautiously peeked over at the girl, “Is it, like, a work thing? Or a life thing?” 

“It’s- it’s a work thing,” Annie gave a small sympathetic nod toward the kid, “and you?”

“Um, a life thing.” 

It was strange to Annie to see a child look so down, shoulders slumped by some invisible weight. “Hey, your life’s just started, I’m sure whatever’s going on, it will work out.” 

The boy took a hesitant breath before saying, “My, uh, my dad died.” 

_Oh._ “Oh, shi-, I mean, I’m so sorry.” Annie really felt like shit now. She was normally so good with kids, but then again, she had always thought she was strong too. Maybe she just wasn’t the person she thought she was.

Hughie noticed Annie’s worsening frown and tried to set her at ease. “It’s okay, really. It honestly feels good just to say it out loud. What about you?”

Annie hadn’t planned on dumping all of her problems and insecurities on some random kid at the park, but once she started talking about it, everything came out like word vomit. She had to admit, saying everything out loud _did_ make her feel better. At the end of her little monologue, Annie couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

“Oh, um I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you.” 

“It’s ok. I mean, what do I know but, me and my Dad used to go skating at Rockefeller and I was always too scared to leave the side. But my dad? He would just charge headfirst, and he wasn’t, he wasn’t like good, you know? But he- he was never scared. And he would tell me, ‘just because you fall down doesn’t mean you have to stay that way’. So you fell down, you know? It’s-it’s not who you are.” Hughie had never been great at speaking, and that was probably the most words he’d ever said to a complete stranger.

Huh, that was some solid advice. _“Out of the mouths of babes,”_ Annie thought. She could feel some of her confidence start to return. She wasn’t weak just because of that asshole, and she was pissed he could ever make her feel like less than what she was. 

“Your right.” Annie smiled for the first time all day. “I’m a fighter. I’m gonna fight.” She was getting amped up now, “I’m gonna take that son of a b- gun, son of gun’s head clean off his body!” 

“O-okay, wow. Okay.” Hughie had to admit, it felt pretty good to see the girl smile. “Cool. Scary, but cool.” Hughie grinned as he put out a hand, “I’m Hughie by way.”

“Annie.” _“This boy really is something else,”_ Annie thought to herself. “You know Hughie, you're a pretty smart kid.”

Hughie practically beamed at the compliment. He may be a screw up, but at least he was able to help one person. 

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be ok.

* * *

This was not ok. Hughie had never been so nerve racked in his life, and that was saying something. The boy sat in the front seat of Butchers old, black Cadillac as the man explained what exactly he needed Hughie to do. 

“- Bob’s your uncle, that’s that.”

“That’s that?! That- ok, um, could you repeat it again? A little slower, because I-” And now Hughie was babbling, great. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do this.

“Shh. Listen. Hughie calm down.” The boy finally took a breath to collect himself. Butcher only had one chance at this and he wasn’t about to let the kid back out now. “This is like that scene in the Matrix. Now, you could take the fucking red pill, right? Spend the rest of your life crying into your chai tea, green latte, what the fuck. Or, you can take the blue pill. Or is it the red pill? Anyway, just take the other pill and quit being a cunt.”

“I've-I've never seen The Matrix.” Hughie didn’t really know what a cunt was either, but he was pretty sure that it was one of those words that would get him a good smack on the head for using.

“Just quit being a cunt.” 

“What do I do when I see A-Train,” Hughie blurted out. The boy gazed blankly at the floor. “I- I can’t even look at cereal boxes anymore, how- how can I face him when all I can see is my dad’s killer.”

Ah, so that’s what this was about. Butcher idly rubbed his beard, contemplating his next words carefully. “All right kid, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, call it an FBI tip.” That got the boy’s attention. “When your in a situation where you start to panic, when all of that fucking fear nonsense starts to scramble your noggin, I need you to flip the switch. It’s a little button in your brain, you flip it, and turn off all of those messy emotions. It lets you get the job done.” Butcher was mostly talking out his ass, but he did know a thing or two about repressing feelings.

“That sounds fake.”

“Oi! Who’s the adult here? Now get going kid, times a wastin.” 

With that, Hughie got out of the car and made his way to the front entrance where Gary was waiting. He was under the impression that Robin’s dad had dropped him off. Hughie felt a little bad for lying to Gary about what he’d been up to, but he’d also feel bad about getting Gary involved in his mess. He just felt bad in general. 

They made their way inside the building, Gary keeping a hand on Hughie’s shoulder in an act of silent support, all the way through security and up to the boardroom. On any other occasion, Hughie would have been stoked about seeing the meeting room of the actual Seven, but now all he could feel was nausea. Hughie sat himself silently in the oversized chair as they waited for A-Train to make his appearance. His hands started shaking the longer he sat there, so he folded them into his lap. Breath in. Breath out. He could do this. Hughie was about to ask to use the bathroom, to prep the bug stashed away in his phone, when A-Train and his lawyer burst into the room. The lawyer was already going on about something or rather, but Hughie couldn’t really hear anything over the ringing in his ears. 

A-Train was right _there._ Just a few feet away. Hughie stood up as the man approached, though he wasn’t sure how he was able to, what with his legs shaking like a newborn deer. The ringing only got louder as A-Train made some half-hearted apology. All the boy could see was blood. A-Train coated head to toe in _blood._ He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate as A-Train tried to catch his attention. _“The Button, remember the button. I need to flip the switch,”_ Hughie repeated this to himself over and over in the brief silence. He had to do this, for his dad. And just like that, all of the fear and anxiety left.

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you for apologizing, It means a lot. After all, I mean, you were saving the world.” He even managed to smile as he shook the supe’s hand. Maybe he was James Bond. He was able to keep all of his feelings in check through planting the bug and leaving the building. He told Gary that Robin’s dad would pick him up and take him back to the store after dinner. Hughie didn’t even feel the usual guilt that came with telling a lie. That probably wasn’t good, but the boy was too elated to give it any thought as Butcher rolled up to the front of the building. 

As they rode through the streets Hughie couldn’t stop himself from gushing over what had happened. He actually did it. Hughie Campbell had successfully pulled off an honest to god secret mission. Today was the best day of his young life.

Butcher smiled a little at the kid’s antics. He did good, he’d give him that, and Butcher was now one step closer to taking down the bastards at Vought. To taking down Homelander. Quid pro-fucking quo. 

“-and I looked A-Train right in the eye and shook his hand! You were right, I just flipped a switch and bam. I get why you like this job.” The more the boy thought about it, the more he realized that he rather liked Butcher; sure the man was intensely frightening, but he treated Hughie like an adult. 

“It has its moments.” 

“Screw A-Train! Screw The Seven!” Butcher huffed a little at that, and proceeded to pull up to the front of the A/V shop after circling the block for a bit. The kid looked nervously over at the store. “I- I know I’m like, ten, but if you ever need help again, I can do more,” Hughie uttered tentatively.

Well, wasn’t that sweet, but Butcher was done playing babysitter. “I know kid, I know. But it’s best to leave this to the professionals now.” Hughie gave a quick nod as he got out of the car. He was about to drive off when the boy spoke again.

“Oh wait. Bet you’ve never seen a kid tear up 45k.” The boy had taken out a check from his pocket and tore it in half. He was right, Butcher definitely didn’t see that everyday.

“Oi Hughie.” The boy looked at him with those eager blue eyes. “You're a good kid.” And He meant it. The boy smiled as he turned and disappeared into the store. Butcher had to admit, he might just miss the little bugger. Just a little. 

Best not to think too hard on it.


	2. Adventures in Kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hughie might be kidnapped and Translucent definitely gets kidnapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I wanted to add a warning for gore and vomiting in this chapter in case that squicks you.  
> We’re finally getting into the meat of the story a bit more and introducing Frenchie, my love.

Gary Tullius never thought he would have children. The man was divorced years ago and was quite happy focusing on running his business. Now he had a dead friend and temporary custody of a child. Life truly worked in mysterious ways.

Gary was planning on asking the boy if he’d like to stay with him permanently. He really could not bear to see him end up in foster care and Hugh would have wanted him to be with someone he knows. Gary contemplated how to best approach this topic as Hughie sat at the counter, watching the TV. The man went about his usual routine, about to lock up for the night, when the bell chimed. 

“I’m sorry but we’re closed,” Gary said as turned toward the door, but no one was there. Strange. He went over to investigate but didn’t make it far. The man suddenly felt a punch knock him on his ass. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Hughie stared wide eyed as Gary suddenly dropped to the floor. He heard a voice but it seemed to come out of nowhere. The boy would later feel a little embarrassed to admit his first thought had been  _ Ghost!?. _

“What, you thought I wouldn’t find this! Thought you could sneak it in with the fucking kid!?” The voice continued as it pummeled Gary. Blood oozed from his nose and split lip and the man began wheezing as his chest caved in from a hard blow.

As soon as a small, very familiar device hung in the air above the gasping man, Hughie knew exactly who it was.  _ Translucent.  _ He knew about the bug, the bug that Hughie really thought he had gotten away with; and he was going to kill Gary for something that Hughie did. 

Gary’s bloodied face looked at Hughie as he choked out “Run, Hughie,run.” Hugie wanted to, he wanted to run, to scream, to tell Translucent that it was  _ him _ ; he was one who planted the bug. Gary had nothing to do with it. He wanted to do  _ something,  _ but the boy was frozen in terror. His limbs were lead weights that he couldn’t lift even if he tried. He just stood in wide-eyed silence as Translucent ripped a television off the wall, as he hoisted it above Gary’s head, and brought it down with a sickening crunch. 

At that point Hughie realized two things: one, the human head, when cracked open, looked rather like an oozing egg. If that ooze was blood, and the yolk was brain matter. Two, he had gotten Gary killed. The boy didn’t have much time to process any of this when a black Cadillac ran through the front window, slamming Translucent into the back wall. 

Butcher smoothly got out of the vehicle with a quick, “Sorry about the mess.” He looked over to Hughie, who was still staring at Gary’s mangled corpse. “Run kid.” And with that, Butcher headed for Translucent with a crowbar in hand. 

Hughie finally managed to pull his eyes away from the body. Suddenly all of the adrenaline that had been building up shot straight to his legs and the boy ran to the back room. He was hyperventilating, and this time there was no kind paramedic to calm him. He was alone now. Alone with his thoughts. 

_ I killed Gary. _

Sure Translucent had dealt the blow but Hughie had killed him with his silence. With his inaction. And now he was just running away like a coward. 

_ Just breath. In and out. _ Hughie was faced with a choice, he could run, leave through the back door and live with the knowledge that he once again had stood by as someone he cared about died; Or he could flip the switch, turn off the fear that had gotten Gary killed and  _ do something.  _ He made the choice.

Hughie ran back to the front just in time to see Butcher in an eerily familiar position, on the ground with a crowbar floating overhead. The boy saw the exposed electrical cord left over from the TV that had- nope. He wasn't going to think about that, he had to focus. He snuck up from behind and grabbed the cord by the rubber end, making eye contact with Butcher as the other man kicked Translucent back.

The effect was immediate.

Sparks flew as the supe violently convulsed but Hughie managed to keep his grip steady, then suddenly the man dropped to the ground, unmoving. 

“Is he... is he dead?” Hughie shakily asked.

Butcher stood and gave the body a swift kick. “Well, he ain’t movin is he?” At that point Hughie knew that his life was over, so he might as well live vicariously.

“Oh Fuck.”

Butcher gave a considering glance at the boy currently shaking on the floor. “How’d you know the electric could do the job?”

That’s what he was concerned about? Not even a ‘hey kid you ok’? “His-his skin is carbon. Really conductive. I-uh I saw it on Jimmy Fallon.”

Huh, impressive. “Would’ve taken me forever to work that one out. Good job. Now let’s get him in the boot.” With that Butcher began to lift Translucent’s body. 

Hughie frantically got to his feet. 

“Wait, wait, what? W-what are we doing with him?” This has to be some kind of joke.

“Well, Hughie, you just offed one of The Seven mate.”

“W-what me?! YOU HIT HIM WITH A CAR,” Hughie yelled. Sure he electrocuted him but that's besides the point.

“Look, Potato fucking Po-tah-to. We’re both in a shitload of trouble.”

“B-but he attacked us right? And you're a fed, just call the FBI!” He practically pleaded. This was bad, and not just skipping school bad, really bad. There were two dead bodies and Hughie was responsible for both of them.

“Y-yeah, ok, so look, technically I’m not a fed.” Butcher could admit, this was a bad look.

Hughie’s brain could really only process so much information in such a short span, and the gears practically stopped at Butcher’s admittance. “WHAT?! Then who are you?!” 

Suddenly sirens began blaring in the distance. 

“You hear that? That’s the old bill. So unless you wanna explain why you’ve got America’s favorite invisible wanker dead on the floor, get in the fucking car, will ya.”

Hughie looked at the bloodied outline of a body on the floor, then to the corpse of the only other person he had left, and felt nausea and bile creep up his throat. He vomited whatever remained from lunch onto the ground. 

Butcher looked a little put out, but gave the boy a moment before huddling the shaking kid into the car. 

“Alright lad, easy does it but we gotta go.” 

* * *

That was how Hughie Campbell found himself in the passenger seat of an absolute madman with a superhero’s corpse in the trunk. A madman who apparently, wasn’t a federal agent. 

“Alright, listen, I have worked for the feds. I’ve worked for lots of people. I’m what you might call an independent contractor, you’ve got a problem, you call me, I solve the problem,” Butcher explained.

“So you’re a mercenary?” Oh god he’s been doing illegal missions for a mercenary. 

“What? No, If I was a merc I’d be getting paid a hell of a lot more. Imma concerned citizen.”

Somehow that was worse. He really was a madman.  _ Wait, did I just get kidnapped? _ , Hughie thought. It dawned on him that technically he was there of his own free will (sort of), so probably not. Suddenly a hard thumping could be heard coming from the trunk.

“W-What is that?”

Butcher glanced over shoulder, “That’s a problem.”

Hughie quickly realized what the sound meant, and shouted,“Oh thank god, he’s alive!” Hughie can at least scratch one murder off his conscience. “YES, YES! He’s alive, pull over.”

“No, no, no Hughie! You don’t fucking get it.”

“Please pull over!” Hughie pleaded. He didn’t want to beg but his life may not be over now. There was hope.

“This is a fucksite worse, he’s seen our faces.” 

The boy sat in stunned silence at the implication, this wasn’t over and it might never be over. Translucent had already targeted one person in connection with Hughie, what if he went after Robin’s family next?

“Oh god. I-I can’t do this, let me out.” Butcher stared straight ahead and kept on driving.

“P-please let me out! Pull over!”

“Hughie. If you walk away now you’ll never get pay back for your dad. Besides, where are you planning to go? Hm? The bloke who was watching you is deader than a fucking door nail and you’re gonna end up in some shit-hole group home or foster care whatever the fuck. And anyone you stay with is gonna be in danger until we get this sorted out, so just sit down and shut up.”

Hughie could only stare at Butcher in disbelief, he decided to mentally rescind his earlier thoughts on him, the man was an asshole. But he was right, where could he go?

“Besides, I know a bloke. Top man. He’ll know what to do.” 

The boy decided then and there that this was most likely a kidnapping.

* * *

Once again, Hughie found himself being taken to a secondary location, and this time, it was in New Jersey. His dad would have really killed him now. The two made their way through a dingy alley to an old brick building. Butcher gave two quick thumps on the door, a second later a frightening woman answered, a cigarette held loosely in her hand.

“Mornin love, Frenchie about?” Butcher said with a grin.

The woman spared Butcher a quick once over before turning her piercing gaze onto Hughie. She carefully knelt down and inspected his face with gentle hands. The woman’s voice was quiet as she spoke.

“What is your name?”

“H-Hughie.”

“I am Cherie.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to the boy's ear, “If this man has kidnapped you, you tell me and I will rip his balls off.” Well that was comforting in an unsettling way. 

“U-um no?” Hugie uttered quietly. 

“Oi! I’m standin right here. The kids with me.” Butcher looked a tad offended, as if he would never stoop so low as to kidnap and extort a kid. The woman gave a final nod at Hughie before motioning them inside. They walk into a dimly lit room, French music blasting as a shirtless man loaded and inspected a table full of firearms. Hughie carefully stayed behind as Butcher approached. 

“Frenchie!” The music was lowered to a more tolerable level. “Oi, Frenchie.”

“Monsieur Charcuter. Huh. This is a surprise.” 

The two continued to exchange vaguely threatening pleasantries, but all Hughie could focus on was the staggering amount of guns lying on the table. He really didn’t get the feeling this guy was nice, especially with the way he and Butcher spoke to each other. These were two people not on good terms, why would he help them? The boy was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed that Frenchie’s attention had turned on him. 

“Who is this?” Frenchie slowly made his way around the table towards Hughie. “Are you alright?” The boy gave a stiff nod as the man's wide eyes roved over him. Frenchie suddenly turned and rounded on Butcher. “T'es une raclure de bidet! Did you kidnap fucking a kid!?” 

Butcher had never seen Frenchie look so angry. He had Butcher up against the wall with a knife to the throat before he could even blink. Butcher put his hands up in mock defense, his voice deceptively casual.

“Hey come off it Frenchie this kid’s here of his own free will. He’s in a spot o’ trouble and I’m helping him ouit.” Alright so Butcher’s the one who got him into trouble, but Frenchie doesn’t need to know that.

Cherie came forward at that point and placed a delicate hand on Frenchie’s shoulder, he looked over to her face as she gave a slight nod in confirmation. He let out a sharp “Putain.” Then put the knife away, taking a step back. Butcher at that point had put his hands down and once again put on an air of nonchalance before speaking. 

“Listen Frenchie, if you wanna help the kid out then help me. Now, do you want to know about the job or what?”

* * *

Frenchie had swore to himself that he would never again get sucked in with the likes of Billy Butcher, and yet, here he was driving to an abandoned Tony Cicero’s, all because Butcher saw fit to drop a kidnapped supe on his doorstep. How did this happen? 

He thought back to the child that had stood quietly behind Butcher, the boy looked to be around nine, he was small, with large blue eyes and a mop of curly brown hair. He hadn’t spoken much since leaving Frenchie’s place. No one in their right mind would ever leave a kid in Butcher’s care, that seemed to be the main reason he had chosen to get involved. That and the fact that Translucent had now seen his face.  _ Fucking Butcher _ .

The black van swiftly entered the back alley of the abandoned restaurant right behind Butcher’s Cadillac. The two men quickly got to work unloading all of their supplies and getting a makeshift base set up. Hughie stood rather awkwardly to the side as the men worked, unsure of what to do with himself, but found his curiosity peaked as Frenchie set up wiring to a metal cage. Hughie had a specific interest in electronics from watching his dad work, and though he was still too intimidated to approach Frenchie, he couldn’t help but observe the man as he worked in a similar fashion. He was distracted from his observations as Butcher and Frenchie began to argue back and forth over what to do about the tracking chip.

“There’s no way to get it out, what do you suggest we do ah?” Frenchie said.

“Well we’re fucked if we don’t do something.”

“Um, what about the RF shielding foil?” Hughie quietly uttered. Both parties glanced over at the previously silent boy. Butcher was the first to respond. 

“The what?”

“RF shielding foil, there was a whole roll of it when we came in. It-it blocks signals.” Hughie got progressively quieter as he spoke, confidence waning,”my uh, my dad used to use it sometimes during home installations.”

A contemplative look crossed Frenchie’s face when Butcher spoke next. “Could it work?”

“I don’t know. But anything is worth trying now,” Frenchie answered.

Butcher got to work retrieving the aluminium and taping it to the ceiling as Frenchie returned to the electrical wiring. Hughie felt relieved that Butcher had actually considered his idea rather than brushing it aside. As Frenchie finished up he grabbed Hughies attention.

“You are full of surprises mon petit,” he said with a smile.

Hughie flushed a little at the compliment, feeling the same swell of pride that he did whenever Butcher told him good job. 

“Um thanks.” Frenchie at least seemed a little less frightening now.

Translucent woke up soon afterward and he was not happy. He shouted various threats and obscenities that Butcher and Frenchie mostly ignored as they all went into the other room, Hughie trailing behind silently. His body had a visceral reaction to hearing Translucent’s voice again. Unwanted images seared into the boys brain kept popping up, Gary’s cracked skull, blood collecting on the floor, droplets sprayed like a Pollock on the wall. Images that Hughie had been so diligent about ignoring until now. 

_ Breathe….Breathe…..Breathe, turn it off _ , the boy reminded himself,  _ I can’t freak out now _ ! Hughie decided to try and focus on what was being said around him, the two men had been going back and forth for a bit. It dawned on Hughie then that they were talking about how to  _ kill  _ Translucent. 

“Y-you’re going to kill him?”

Butcher scoffed, “Well we didn’t bring him here for a fucking happy meal.” 

“I-I thought you’d question him or something.” 

Butcher went on about some guy named Kahlid Sheikh Mohammad and Hughie could not believe he was arguing over the merit of not committing murder. When did everything get so backwards?

“Butcher, I just- I don’t want to be a murderer,” Hughie finished quietly. 

Butcher had gotten progressively closer as they went back and forth, but now he leaned right over him. 

“That’s alright kid,” he said with frightening intensity, “I am.”

“Hey, Butcher, leave the boy alone,” Frenchie cut in.

Hughie had had enough, he had to get some air. The boy made his way to the other room and got himself some water. What was he going to do? What can he do? He was involved in the kidnapping and soon to be murder of one of the most famous men on the planet. Never mind that said man had also killed someone in front of Hughie in cold blood, It’s not like anyone would ever believe him if he tried to explain that. An alert on Hughie’s phone went off.

It was Robin.

He dismissed it, he couldn’t involve her in his mess, he couldn’t talk to anyone about this. Hughie was well and truly alone and in way over his head. All he could do now was curl into himself on the ground and cry. He tried to stop, really it was rather pathetic, but he had no other outlet. 

An hour or so passed of just Hughie sitting on the floor trying to gather the energy to get up. Butcher passed through, though he didn’t pay much mind to the boy on the floor, as he prepped a large firearm. 

Oh that can’t be good.

Hughie managed to get his body off the ground to follow Butcher, just in time to see him aim and fire at Translucent.

“No wait!” Hughie shouted. 

It was too late. But the blood splatter that Hughie expected didn’t happen, instead the bullet ricocheted, nearly hitting  _ him  _ in the process. Translucent mocked the attempt with his usual eloquence.

“Nice try you stupid fucking assholes!”

Hughie wasn’t sure if he was glad it didn’t work or disappointed it didn’t. Butcher and Frenchie both looked rather worried, that probably was their best attempt. Butcher appeared to come to some conclusion because he suddenly turned to Frenchie.

“Frenchie, back later,” he said shrugging on his coat.

“Where are you going?”

“Got an idea, long shot, might help.”

“Now?” Hughie cut in. Butcher was just going to leave him alone with Frenchie? Sure the man didn’t seem so bad now, but he was still some kind of criminal. Then again, so was Butcher. 

“Yeah well, it’s all under control here innit? Try not to bugger each other.” And with that he left. 

Frenchie noticed how nervous the boy became, and could understand, he was alone in a strange place with a strange man, the man could relate to the kind of anxiety that created. He tried to give the boy space as he went back to work. Perhaps coating a drill in carbon meta-material might be more effective? He quickly prepped the materials he’d need, as he worked he could feel two curious eyes observing his methods.

“So um, Mr.Frenchie? W-what are you, exactly?” Hughie asked tentatively. “Are you a chemist, an engineer?” Hughie wanted to be an engineer when he grew up, he had a love for technology and would want to take it further. That is, if he grew up.

Frenchie smiled, glad the boy was willing to speak. “No, I know a little about a lot of things. I’m a gunrunner by trade, but, uh, as you can see, I’ve developed a certain niche.” 

_ Ah.  _ “Killing supes?” Hughie asked with some trepidation.

“No, mon petit, you can count on one hand the number of dead superheroes.” Frenchie lifted his goggles to his head. “Sometimes you can, uh incapacitate them. Truly they are magnificent creatures. No two are ever alike,” he finished. Hugie nodded along.

“Y-you can call me Hughie, by the way.” Hughie said. Better than mon petit in his opinion.

Frenchie’s eyes softened, “Alright petit Hughie, you may call me Frenchie.”

“Is that your real name?” It had to be some kind of nickname, maybe only Butcher called him that.

“No, but it is the one I use.” 

Hughie realized that aliases must be pretty common and chose not to inquire further. They lapsed into silence as Frenchie continued his work. He glanced at the boy occasionally, who was once again observing with rapt attention. 

“You seem curious, petit Hughie, would you like to help?” 

The boy looked surprised before quickly nodding. Perhaps having something to do would aleve his anxiety. Frenchie began to explain his process to the boy, instructing him about the various chemicals that the containers held. He paused when Hughie picked up one of the “candies” lying on the table.

“Is this a candy? Can I have it?” he asked.

“No no no, put it down. It is MDMA laced with LSD, not for children oui?” Frenchie held out his palm to the sheepish boy as he handed it over, popping it into his mouth. He might need to keep better track of his substances, just to avoid any accidents. 

The two worked companionably for a few hours, Hughie learned quickly and was happy to help by passing over various tools and pouring beakers. Frenchie was correct in his assumption that having a task would relieve the boy’s anxiety, but as time went on he noticed how, without the nervous energy, tired the boy looked. He was pale, dark circles under the eyes, with a slight tremor in his hands and it dawned on Frenchie that he probably hadn’t eaten all day. Butcher wasn’t exactly known for being considerate, who knew when the boy last had a meal?

“Petit Hughie, are you hungry?”Hughie stopped what he was doing.

“Oh, um, yeah? But I don’t think we have any food in here.” The building may have been a restaurant at one point, but Hughie had checked the cupboards earlier and found them bare. He realized he technically hadn’t eaten in over a day.

“We cannot have that, oui? You can have anything, I will go to the store and grab it.” He couldn’t exactly cook here, but he was sure he could make do.

“Pizza rolls,” Hughie immediately blurted out. They were his favorite. His dad used to always make him pizza rolls. 

“Alright, pizza rolls it is.” Frenchie swore that when they had access to a real kitchen, he would make the boy a proper meal. “I’ll be back soon, no leaving yeah? It’s not safe. And don’t go into that back room.” The last thing they needed was the boy accidentally electrocuting himself or releasing Translucent. Hughie nodded in confirmation. 

As soon as Frenchie left Hughie approached the large metal door that led to the captured supe. He was filled with terror at the thought of confronting the man who killed Gary. But he had some things to get off his chest, and some questions to ask. 

The boy went back to the front of the building and grabbed a glass of water. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, his dad used to say. When he was done he carefully opened the heavy door. Of course he couldn’t actually see Translucent, that made things a little easier,  _ like talking to air _ , Hughie thought.

“ H-hi, I-I thought you might be thirsty so....” Hughie was trying his best not to stutter right now, he needed to be taken seriously. He placed the water on the ground and carefully opened the hatch with a wooden spoon. He waited for a moment, then the water seemed to float up and into the cage. 

“S-so, I need to tell you something, t-hat man, who you killed earlier-”

“Look kid, if he was your dad or somethin I’m sorry but anyone spying on The Seven gets what’s coming to them.”

“He wasn’t!” Hughie was really trying to keep his cool. “Um he, he wasn’t spying, he didn’t plant the bug, I did. Gary didn’t have anything to do with it.” 

“Gary? So not your dad then, is he the dude with the beard?” 

“Wh-what? No! H-he’s a…” Hughie wasn’t quite sure exactly what to call Butcher. Definitely not a friend, maybe an acquaintance?

“Well you really screwed up there pal, might’ve let the guy live if I knew that sooner.” Translucent knew how to get under peoples skin, and the kid looked guilty as shit when he walked in. 

Hughie was glad he hadn’t eaten yet because he knew he would have vomited again at the man’s words.

“Is that all you came in here to say?” The supe prompted.

“N-n-no.” Great, his stutter was worse. “I-I also wanted to ask about A-Train. W-hen he b-burst through that man, the other day, Hugh Campbell? I need to know why. Where was he going? What was he doing?”

“Why, you two related or somethin? Was  _ he  _ your dad?” Hughie flinched. “Ah dad then. Christ is that what all this is about? What makes you think I know anything about it?”

“W-well you two were close right? You came up together.”

“Of course you’re a fan, what are you? Like nine?”

Hughie flushed a little, “Ten, Actually.”

“Well listen here kid, word of advice? Run.” The man suddenly appeared, sitting cross legged. “My superpower ain’t invisibility, you know that right? It’s reading people. I see people for who they really are, and I see you.”

Hughie had to swallow the indignation that filled him.“You don’t know me.”

“Oh yeah? I know you’re trying your damnedest to be tough, frankly it’s a little adorable, but the truth is...you’re terrified. Shitting in your tightie whities caus your in over your head fucked, and you know it.”

Welp Translucent had nailed it in one go. Hughie was scared out of his mind.

“Look, you guys can’t kill me, I got invulnerable skin, so get out while you can. Because believe it or not I don’t wanna see a kid fucking die, and that’s what’s going to happen. Homelander’s gonna find me, and when he does he’s going to burst you wide open, just like your dad.”

Hughie paled at his words, he couldn’t do this anymore. He left Translucent and slammed the door as hard as he could, breaths ragged. He yelled and kicked the wall, filled with rage, and regret. 

* * *

  
Frenchie returned not long after, a bag of frozen pizza rolls in hand. He prepared them in the small microwave that was left over from the previous tenants. Disgusting things, but the boy thanked him earnestly and scarfed them down like fillet mignon. As the boy ate, Frenchie got to work preparing a little surprise. Who knew when last he had slept, judging by his exhaustion it must have been a while, so Frenchie had bought some blankets and pillows while he was out. He got to work setting up a makeshift bed in the storage closet.

When Frenchie returned the boy had finished his meal and looked about ready to keel over. Definitely needed rest. 

“Petit Hughie, come with me, I have something for you.”

Hughie followed curiously, Frenchie led him to a storage closet, and opened it to reveal a small nest of pillows and blankets. Frenchie guided him inside and sat him down on the bed.

“You need to rest mon ami, who knows when Butcher will be back, we’ll pick up our efforts tomorrow.” He crouched down and gave Hughie a soft pat on the head before standing to leave. 

“Wait. I uh, I need to ask you something.” Frenchie crouched back down, listening intently. “Um…when you kill a supe, or anyone really...w-what’s it like?” Hughie winced slightly as he asked. Maybe that was too personal. However Frenchie seemed to contemplate his question for a moment before answering.

“You know, I saw this woman once, in a midtown elevator-” and so Frenchie told the story of his first kill. He looked Hughie in the eye as he finished. “I carry- I carry them all with me, it’s like scars in a way, you know?” The man’s face told Hughie everything he needed to know. “Why do you ask? Me and Butcher, we will take care of Translucent, you? You are too young to be worrying about these things.”

Hughie chewed at his bottom lip, Frenchie had told him something personal, something he had probably shared with few people. Hughie should do the same. He told the man of what happened, how his dad died, how he got involved with Butcher, how he had gotten Gary killed. He explained how he was too scared to speak, to tell the truth, and it had ended a life. Frenchie listened all the way through before gazing at Hughie with such sadness.

“Listen, Hughie, what happened before, and what will happen later… it is not your fault. You don’t deserve to carry that weight, any of it.” He huffed a little before continuing, “I know what it is like to feel responsible for the death of another, even one you didn’t carry out. It’s a guilt you do not need to carry, mon petit. This Gary, he cared for you no?”

“Yes,” Hughie said quietly.

“Then he would be happy that you are alive. I know it is difficult, but try not to let the guilt of what if eat at you, Ok?” Frenchie stood up then, “Now get some rest.” 

As Frenchie shut the door, Hughie decided to rescind his earlier thoughts on the man, he was really nice, gentle even. The boy fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

* * *

Outside the door, Frenchie ran into Butcher, leaning slightly against the wall, listening. He gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. Butcher was about to turn back towards the work area when he spoke.

“It was wrong to involve this boy, Butcher,” he said as he lit a cigarette.

“I know.” 

“Then you better take care of him.” With that Frenchie headed back to finish his work.

Butcher would never admit it, but he felt a little bit of guilt sitting low in stomach. He couldn’t afford to get distracted, he had a goal and he would do whatever it takes to complete it, for  _ her _ . Damn the fucking kid.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Out of the Frying Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hughie's horrible, no-good, very bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update, November has been pretty hectic and I've had the first half of this chapter written out for weeks. I'm so glad its finished! Its a little shorter than normal because I had to break it up into two parts, so no MM yet unfortunately, he'll come in next update. But thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos on the last chapter, it really motivated me to write again <3

Morning came around and the boys were once again huddled around their work table, lacking ideas. Hughie had eaten pizza rolls for breakfast and, under any other circumstance, would have been delighted about that fact. However, it also forced him to witness Butcher eat pizza rolls with a fork and knife (more proof that the man was unhinged), so that put a damper on the experience. 

Frenchie had seemed the most agitated, rubbing his head and mumbling obscenities, over the current block. Despite this, Hughie was touched that the man still thought to set up an old TV set in the corner for him. The boy set it to the nature channel on an animal documentary about turtles. He was watching with passing interest as the narrator spoke about the development of turtle shells, when Frenchie suddenly jerked forward, grabbing the cattle prod in haste. 

He figured it out. 

Frenchie, after shocking Translucent unconscious, explained the solution. Like a turtle, Translucent’s skin only protected his outside, not his insides. The answer? Placing an explosive _inside_ him. 

Hughie observed with morbid curiosity as the two men prepped a bomb and makeshift trigger, and proceeded to lube it up and insert it rectally into the unconscious supe. _Like a really messed up prostate exam,_ Hughie thought. The boy knew they wouldn’t listen if he tried to convince them not to, and on some level, he also wanted Translucent dead. The man was a monster, and as he was coming to learn, all supes were. 

Shortly after finishing, Translucent regained consciousness, and the man could immediately feel that something was wrong. Butcher and Frenchie soon explained, with no small amount of satisfaction, just how fucked he was. Ass bomb fucked.

And Translucent was not a man who accepted the end with grace, Hughie had never seen a person beg for their life before, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t at least a little satisfying to see a high and mighty superhero, trembling with fear, brought down by some C-4. Hughie was intimately familiar with the type of emotion brought upon by being completely powerless, and he was almost glad to see that even super heroes could be put in the same position. They had him, and he knew it. 

Everyone was set to leave Translucent to his fate, ignoring his frantic attempts to bargain, until he shifted his attention onto Hughie.

“I-I-I’ll tell you about A-Train,” The man stuttered out, desperation coating every word, “That’s what the kid wants right?”

Hughie was fucked. He was _not_ supposed to talk to Translucent by himself, and there was no way the supe could have known that he was after A-Train if Hughie hadn’t told him. Butcher gave Hughie a sharp glance as Translucent continued.

“I don’t k-know where he was going, b-but I know where he was coming from.”

“What? Where?” Hughie asked, unable to mask how eager he was for answers.

“Popclaw’s.”

Butcher appeared to consider the new information as the supe explained what he knew about A-Train’s relationship with Popclaw, then gave a quick motion with his head, signaling the others to head back. Translucent had tried to bargain his way out, but they were out of time. 

As they went into the other room, Butcher’s fingers tightly grasped the detonator but held off on pressing the button just yet. He had some more questions to ask their youngest conspirator. Hughie for his part kept his eyes firmly locked on the ground. 

Good. The kid knew he was in trouble.

“So Hughie, care to explain why you’ve been talking with the supe?” Butcher began, crossing his arms and angling his body slightly over the kid. 

Hughie carefully glanced up, briefly meeting the man’s intense stare before putting his head back down. “I-I just wanted to talk... a-about G-Gary,” the boy said, “and t-to ask about A-Train,” he added quietly.

Butcher gave a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face, fuck he was tired. He could understand why the kid wanted to talk with Translucent, and luckily nothing came of it, but both Frenchie and him had a mutual understanding that Hughie was what they would call a “weak link”, at risk of being swayed into letting Translucent go or calling the cops, neither of which would end well for any of them. Which was why he wasn’t supposed to be left alone without a keen eye to keep track of him.

Butcher then looked at Frenchie, “You fucking knew not to leave him alone, so tell me, when did the kid have a chance to sneak a chat with the invisible cunt, huh?” he asked.

Frenchie scratched idly on the back of his head, “He needed food, so I left, but I _told_ him to stay away from the back room,” he said earnestly. 

Butcher rolled his eyes as he barked out, “And of course shit-head kids always do what they're told,” he looked pointedly at Hughie then back again, “well suppose it doesn’t matter now, we’re done here.” He lifted the detonator about to press the switch - Hughie quickly covering his ears in preparation- but right at that moment Frenchie spotted movement on the security feed.

“Butcher, a moment s’il vou plait,” Frenchie uttered, looking concerned.

And that’s how they discovered Homelander was on their trail, searching the nearby areas. Butcher set the detonator down as the two men quickly discussed what to do now, saying things that Hughie, or any normal person really, wouldn’t understand (what the hell did Pittsburgh have to do with anything?), before springing into action. Butcher grabbed his coat and before following Frenchie, spoke to Hughie who was still trying to catch up with what just happened.

“Stay here, don’t fucking move, and if you decide to be a little shit again, I won’t be as nice about it this time around, got it?” he threatened, staring Hughie down. 

The boy gave a jerky nod and with that Butcher was gone. If that was Butcher being nice, he really didn’t want to find out his definition of mean.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Hughie whispered to himself as he leaned against the table. Homelander was _here._ Homelander, the most powerful man in the world, who had _x-ray_ vision, was here, and there was nowhere to hide. The boy’s body trembled as he was jarringly reminded of what Translucent had said. Homelander was gonna kill him, just like Gary...just like his dad. 

The others had only been gone for a few minutes when the metal door slammed open, there was a sharp clang as the door hit the back wall but Hughie almost couldn’t hear it with the blood pulsing in his ears. 

There was a split second pause as the boy realized what was happening. He only had a second to make a decision and he was glad that this time, he didn’t freeze. 

Hughie lunged for the detonator left behind on the table, holding it in both hands as he raised his arms in a silent threat. They were shaking. The boy swallowed as his mouth went dry and distantly thought about what a pitiful sight he must have made, staring up at an invisible threat with his finger on the trigger. He took a second to focus, now was not the time to look weak.

“Get back into that cage,” he said with a surprising amount of conviction.

Translucent appeared then, hands raised in defense. “Take it easy, ok kid,” he said tentatively.

“Please, get back in the cage,” Hughie responded, tightening his grip on the trigger. Even in a life or death situation the boy couldn’t break the habit of being polite. 

“Just think…you kill me, and they’ll _never_ stop looking for you,” the man looked Hughie directly in the eye, “you’ll be glancing over your shoulder your whole life, till they find you, which they will. And kid trust me, you have a lot of life left to live, don't fuck it up now. You can still go home,” he pleaded.

Hughie was close to breaking, he knew he didn’t have a home, not anymore, but maybe there was still hope to fix the mess his life had become, everything had unraveled so fast it seemed impossible to mend, but this right here was an out. Translucent was right, if he killed him, there was no going back, he would be on the run for the rest of his very short life. Letting Translucent go might be the only thing that can save him now, because despite what previous actions might suggest, Hughie really did want to live to see eleven.

After a few tense seconds, he took his thumb off the trigger, and lowered the detonator ever so slightly.

Translucent grinned, “Attaboy.” He gave a swift pat on Hughie’s shoulder, and made way for the door. 

Hughie startled at the contact, and watched the world slow as Translucent passed by. Once the man walked out that door, it was over. Butcher and Frenchie would at best be arrested, at worst, be greasy smears on the pavement. And Hughie would be responsible. 

He thought about the bed still sitting in the closet, the pizza rolls on the counter, and the hours he’d spent with the frenchman, watching and learning. He even thought about Butcher, his sparse words of praise, and how good it felt to be appreciated and taken seriously. Despite everything that had happened, that Butcher was responsible for, Hughie didn’t hate him. 

He did however, hate Translucent.

The supe who killed Gary and who was now walking away, a free man. It made him sick, and _angry._ Hughie felt the same rage that had been simmering underneath his skin since his dad died, it rose into his throat like vomit, and he was done trying to swallow it down.

The boy lifted the detonator, and before he could think about the consequences, pressed the button. 

The immediate effect was nothing short of horrifying. 

The explosion left his ears ringing and red sludge, a putrid mixture of blood and flesh, coated Hughie head to toe. He stood in the middle of the room in silence, gazing at the splatter of remains that covered the walls and floor, taking in the sight of what he had done. 

He killed Translucent.

Not by accident, or by inaction. He had just killed another human being on purpose, and a cold realization set in as the boy registered what he felt in that moment. He didn’t feel scared, or disgusted, or even guilty. No, Hughie realized that it felt _good…_ and that disturbed him more than the gore ever could.

* * *

Butcher had just shut the briefcase, releasing a sigh of relief as Homelander flew out of sight, when he heard the explosion go off in the building. His body reacted before his mind could, and he immediately sprinted through the entrance running for the back area, Frenchie a few steps behind.

_I’m a fucking git,_ Butcher thought. He had just ripped Frenchie a new one for leaving the kid alone, and now he’d just made the same mistake. Sure, it was literally a life or death situation, but still. In the minute it took for him to make it to the kitchen area, Butcher thought about every possible scenario of what could have gone wrong. Translucent could have gotten out, the kid could have _let_ him out, hell, the lad could already be dead, all because Butcher had chosen to involve him. He couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive, let alone a child. 

All of those thoughts soon halted when he threw open the door of the hallway. Out of all the likely scenarios, Butcher had not expected _this. This_ being Translucent, at least, what remained of Translucent, and Hughie, covered in blood, holding the trigger.

Butcher took a second to really absorb the situation before letting out a breathy laugh, and shouting, “ _Oh,_ that's fuckin’ diabolical!” 

He hadn’t thought that the kid had it in him, but the evidence of what transpired spoke for itself. Butcher saw the boy covered blood, shell-shocked, but not in tears, and couldn’t help but feel proud, as fucked up as that was. This kid truly was something else. 

Frenchie, who had been right behind Butcher, reacted to the situation with a bit more tact. He nudged past the brit and made his way over to Hughie, who hadn’t moved an inch. The boy stared straight ahead at the epicenter of the carnage, not reacting until Frenchie crouched down and gently took the detonator from the boy’s hands. He finally looked away and faced the frenchman.

“Petit Hughie, are you hurt?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet and movements slow, as if approaching a skittish animal.

Hughie paused for a moment to register the question, before shaking his head, “No, I-I…” he wanted to say he was fine, but he wasn’t, not really, so he settled for, “I really need a bath.” Frenchie smiled at that, hearing Hughie speak eased some of his worry, but he knew that there would be lasting consequences for what just happened. He had lied, he told Hughie that Butcher and he would kill Translucent, that a kid like him didn’t need to worry about taking a life. Now, all he could do was try to help the boy deal with the aftermath.

“You can rinse off over there, Butcher and I will take care of this mess,” he said, gesturing to the rest of the room.

Butcher had made his way over by then, and ran his hand over Hughie’s hair, wiping away some of the flesh and blood caught in the curls. “You did good lad, real good,” was all he said before going to the storage closet to grab cleaning supplies.

Hughie wasn't sure how to feel about the situation, but he was glad that Butcher and Frenchie were safe, that this time he stopped Translucent before he could hurt anyone else. As he removed his ruined t-shirt, he tried to keep his mind off the fact that he was a murderer now. It was a rather hard task to accomplish as he stood on a box over the sink, rinsing the blood out of his hair, and watching with detachment as the reddish water swirled down the drain. 

_What would my dad think of me now?_

Hughie tried to tell himself that it didn’t really matter, not anymore, but the more blood he washed off his body, the more he felt the weight of what he’d done. Guilt wasn’t the word, but he definitely felt uneasy now, less so with the actual act of murder and more so with what happens next. If his life wasn’t over before it definitely was now, there was no going back. 

As Hughie finished cleaning himself up the best he could, Frenchie walked over with a towel in hand. The man bent down, running the towel over the boy’s hair and began to gently wipe away the streaks of blood left behind on his head.

Hughie scrunched his face a bit at the action, “You don’t need to baby me Frenchie, I can do it myself,” he said with some indignation.

Frenchie laughed lightly at his expression, “Oui petit Hughie, you can, but it's ok to ask for help once in a while.” He continued with his efforts until the boy was as clean as he was gonna get, “There, fini.”

Butcher strolled in with some aprons and gloves in one hand, and trash bags in the other. “Alright Frenchie, if you're done playing nanny we gotta get this place cleaned up,” he said, handing a pair of gloves and apron to Frenchie. “And here lad,” he handed Hughie a large chef’s uniform, “best I can do right now but I hope you’re not attached to any of your clothes cause they gotta go. Get rid of the evidence and all that shit.”

Hughie nodded and Butcher gave the boy a once over. He was definitely less out of it then when they first found him, but the kid’s face was still a little too pale and his eyes a little too unfocused. He could tell the boy was caught up in his own head, not unexpected, but still a cause for concern. The sooner they got rid of the evidence and moved to a different location, the better.

* * *

Hughie watched the two men work in a daze. He stood off to the side in a too large chef’s jacket that came down past the knees. Distantly, the boy thought about how ridiculous he must look and felt mild embarrassment, his more pressing thoughts lied however with the rhythmic scrape and plop of organs being tossed into trash bags.

Hughie handed his old clothes over to Frenchie, who then proceeded to set them on fire. Butcher hadn’t been kidding about getting rid of evidence, and there was a lot of evidence. Now that the adrenaline had faded Hughie was able to take a good look at the state of the dingy kitchen, it was hard to find a spot that wasn’t dripping with remains, and the more he looked, the harder it was to pretend that anything was ok. 

“Um I’m…sorry about the mess,” he said quietly, looking at the bloodstains on the ceiling.

“Don’t be stupid, you did us a favor,” Butcher replied a bit too casually for a man scraping organs of the floor. He and Frenchie could tell that the kid was...delicate right now. Frenchie in particular kept sending worried glances toward him as he stood to the side. It seemed their concerns were correct when the boy suddenly walked through the hallway towards the door. “Oi, where do you think you're going?”

Hughie kept his eyes on the ground as he replied, “I’m going home. I need clothes.”

“We’ll get you clothes,” 

“I-I want my clothes,” he murmured, head tilted down sheepishly, “ and I- I want to go home.”

Butcher knew that he needed to make the kid understand what the reality of the situation was. “Hughie, you just arse-bombed America’s sweetheart. You can’t just piss off, and how are you gonna get there huh? Last I checked, you don’t have a license mate.”

Hughie finally pulled his eyes off the ground and looked straight at Butcher. “Please, I want to go home,” he pleaded, voice cracking slightly on the last word.

Butcher glanced over to Frenchie, who nodded his head in agreement. There was no way he could say no when the kid looked so devastated. “Fine, Frenchie will take you, but you try and run and I’ll break your leg.” 

Frenchie stepped forward at this point and placed a hand on Hughie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry petit Hughie, he is joking,” he said as he gave Butcher a sharp glare, “or I will break _his_ leg.” Butcher just waved his hand in dismissal as the other two left.

* * *

The van pulled up to the old brick apartment building that Hughie had lived in for the last ten years. He’d had a duffel bag of clothes at Gary’s place but most of his things were still here. He tried not to think about the fact that this might be the last time he’ll ever get to see his old home. 

Frenchie and Hughie made their way up and through the hallway as the boy led them to the right unit. Hughie paused in front of the door, taking in a shuddering breath, before reaching under the mat to pull out a spare key.

“Um Frenchie, could you wait outside?” he asked in low murmur, “Please?”

Frenchie nodded understandingly, stepping back a bit. Hughie went inside and took in the familiar apartment. He hadn’t been back since the night his dad had died, but he needed this. 

He needed to say goodbye.

The boy went into his bedroom and got changed, before packing the necessities into a backpack. He took a moment to slowly look around the room, focusing on all the different hero memorabilia that covered the walls. His eyes finally landed on an A-Train figurine, and something inside Hughie snapped. He tore the room apart, breaking as many objects as he could get his hands on. All of the feelings he’d been trying to ignore came out in a torrent, all of the anger, despair, and terror that had been building ever since A-Train tore a hole in his life washed over the boy like a wave. When the intensity of the emotions abated, Hughie stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard. There was nothing left after that, he was cored-out, empty. 

Hughie glanced down at a shattered picture frame on the floor, and carefully took out the photo inside, an image of his dad smiling back at him. Tears pooled around his eyes and spilt onto his cheeks as he choked out sobs of grief. What would his dad think of him now? What would anyone think of him now? He killed someone. 

The boy stayed and cried for a few minutes, before frantically wiping away the tears, he could not let Frenchie or Butcher see him cry. He’d chosen to get involved and get justice for his dad, there was no point in feeling sorry for himself, no going back now.

When Hughie opened the door to the hallway, Frenchie was there waiting, and he realized that the man could probably hear everything. Frenchie stared at the boy’s red rimmed eyes and slumped shoulders before kneeling down and bringing him into a hug. 

“It’s ok petit Hughie, I’m sorry things had to be this way.” Hughie, after the initial surprise, slowly leaned his head onto Frenchie’s shoulder. The pair stayed that way for a few more seconds before Frenchie stood back up. “Are you ready to go back?”

“Y-yeah, I’m ok now,” Hughie responded with a shaky smile. Hopefully he will be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really make Hughie suffer in this one huh? This boys gonna go through so much cause I'm a slut for hurt/comfort and found family.


End file.
